Troubled Sammy
by DeppsLadyRosebud
Summary: Sam is about to experience his first hunt and things don’t exactly go as planned… Ages were chosen after hearing Dean talk to Gordon during bloodlust. Finished.
1. The First Hunt

-1**Troubled Sammy**

_Don't know, don't own so please don't sue! Sam is about to experience his first hunt and things don't exactly go as planned… Ages were chosen after hearing Dean talk to Gordon during bloodlust._

**Chapter One: The First Hunt**

**July 3rd 1999**

Dean frowned looking at his father as he pulled the cleaning brush out of the barrel of his .45 "I just don't think he's ready…. He's only seventeen."

John Winchester looked over at his eldest and sighed rubbing his temples, "Dean, you were sixteen when I took you on your first hunt."

"Yeah, but this isn't me we are talking about this is Sammy."

"Sam has grown up the same way you have Dean, don't give me that, you know as well as I do that he is more than capable of handling himself out there."

Dean exhaled loudly, "Whatever." He quipped going back to cleaning his gun, at 21 he had seen more than men three times his age, he had been hunting along side his father for more than five years… and he was damn good at it, but he knew that he was made for this… Hunting was his calling…. Not Sam's.

Sam was two months past his seventeenth birthday, he should be hanging out with his friends, going to arcades, oogling over girls and planning dates… But no instead he was about to partake on a journey through the woods at one in the morning to hunt down and kill a Wendigo in the middle of nowhere-ville Minnesota. He was about to come face to face with something… with a life that was going to change him forever. Rob him of his innocence and prove to him that his fear of the unknown, fear of the unseen is more than justified.

It wasn't like he didn't KNOW about the things his father and his brother hunted, he heard stories all the time about the beasts they defeated and the spirits they exercised. He had seen the battle scars and spent plenty of nights in the emergency room while his father or his brother got stitched up. But stories were harmless… And it was never him on the stitching table, he was safe…

That was all going to change tonight.

Both men looked up in unison as they heard footsteps approaching from the bathroom. "Hey." Dean tried as hard as he could to swallow the fear and the doubt inside him, he tried to keep his voice cool and calm.

"What… what uh time are we heading out there?" The youngest of the Winchesters voice sounded as unsure and fearful as his brother felt.

"We've still got about an hour." John's tone was indifferent, as though he were talking about nothing more than a ballgame or a grocery list. "Is your homework done?"

Sam nodded, "I don't know why your even making me do it… You're pulling me out tomorrow anyway."

"Yeah well.. It might be a week or two until we get you reenrolled so you might as well get an education while you can."

"Yeah squirt." Dean smiled cockily in his brothers direction, "School work is very important."

"Who are you calling squirt! I'm damn near taller than you!"

"Dream on!"

The boys father shook his head and chuckled a little before falling serious again, "Sammy, you remember everything your brother and I told you right?"

"fire." Sam's head bobbed up and down, "Only fire can be used to and I quote." He smugly glanced to his brother "Torch the sucker and send the bastard to hell."

John's eyes widened a little and he looked to his oldest, "That's how you put it to him?"

Dean swallowed loudly, "Yeah so…."

"I just wish you would use a little more… tact."

"Well…He's not exactly a child anymore pops" Dean rose to his feet and stretched popping his knuckles. "Just remember Sammy Dad and I will be there too… We're not going to let anything happen to you."

Sam rolled his eyes and frowned, "First of all it's not Sammy… It's Sam now man, and second of all it's like you just said… I'm not a kid anymore Dean, I can handle this…" He purposely forced himself to sound more than confident causing both other men present in the room to wonder who exactly he was trying to convince.

"Just don't get to cocky out there alright… It's better to stay careful and stay alive then show off and end up Wendigo meat."

John rose a knowing brow in his Dean's direction, "I'll say.. Trust him he's speaking from experience"

"You were Wendigo meat?"

"NO!" Dean immediately jumped on the defensive before lowering his voice, "I was Shape-shifter food…There's a difference"

"I never knew about that!"

"You were only 12... I think we told you I took a spill off of the hood of the impala."

"Didn't I question what the hell you were doing on the hood of the impala?"

"Surprisingly." John shook his head, "No."

-

It was unusually cold for July as the three men made their way soundlessly through the tall trees of the Minnesota woods, Sam tucked protectively between his brother and father. He wondered if it was the night air or the sinking fear that kept causing chills to run up and down his spine like thousands of tiny men. He didn't want to be here, he didn't want to be doing this… But, he didn't have a choice in the matter. Winchesters were hunters and hunters well…. Had to hunt, this was his life, a life he loathed.

Spotting the eerie and dark cave only a few feet up ahead John's feet stopped moving his son's following suit and looking at him for further instruction. "Alright Sam, just remember, we're here with you backing you up… but if we get separated… flames are the only way to kill this thing… and they're fast… faster than most animals so you have to be quick… You can't freeze up no matter what happens…"

Sam blinked a few times trying to digest the realization of what was about to happen, before giving a nod of acknowledgement finding slight comfort in his brother's hand as he felt it touch his lower back.

"I won't leave you I promise… I've been through this hundreds of times you're going to be fine."

The smell was nauseating… Stomach turning as the three of them headed into the cave, it was unlike anything Sam had ever smelled in his life…

Rotten and vomit inducing, like burnt flesh and rotted meat, it was almost enough to send him tumbling backwards. "Gross." He mumbled resisting the urge to gag.

"Welcome to the fabulous life of hunting." Dean whispered back into his ear, "Just try not to breathe through your nose it won't bother you as much."

Sam was about to retort when his train of thought was quickly derailed by the sound of approaching feet, quick and quiet like over sized mice something was sneaking up on them.

"Show time." He heard his brother declare softly before nodding to his father who was already in a defensive stance torch in one hand lighter in the other.

And that's when it happened, that was when Sam heard the soft whimpers in the distance, helpless pain filled cries…. "Dean…" He drew his lip into his mouth.

"We'll get to them Sammy,… They're alright…"

"You boys do that now, I can handle this, it sounds like there's only one… Just remember swiftly and silently… Hopefully there aren't to many back there."

"You heard him, lets go play hero."

Sam followed closely behind his brother making sure to keep in step with him the entire way toward the back of the cave, if Dean moved even an inch right Sam moved that same inch on his heels so closely he almost stepped on them a few times.

Four… Four helpless, whimpering, malnourished forms hung limp and almost lifeless from the caves ceiling. Even in the darkness Sam could see the terror and the tears in their eyes and it made his blood run instantly cold.

"We have to cut them down." Dean's voice cut through his terror filled thoughts as he was already working on the first, she couldn't have been more than twenty, an array of cuts bruises and blood decorating her body and ripped clothing.

Sam moved quickly his hands shaking as he cut down the guy on the far end who seemed to be moderately coherent, "Don't you worry we're going to get you outta here…" He whispered bracing the guy around the waist and lowering him down to his feet.

The man nodded, "We have to hurry before it comes back… I've seen what it can do I watched it eat…It's…" His voice was frantic.

"Shhhh…. You're going to be alright…."

It was only a few more seconds before the remaining two victims were down as well Dean being forced to carry one almost fireman style he looked to his brother for help, "You're going to have to help her…" He used his head to point to the 20 year old from before, "Her ankles pretty busted up she can't walk on her own and I can't carry them both…."

"Alright…." Sam felt that chill of fear from before growing into an aching cold as he gripped the young woman around her waist his entire body trembling, "Lean on me…" He instructed hoping his voice sounded more reassuring to her than it did to him.

He could see Dean's eyes glancing back at him simultaneously trying in vein to give him some sort of comfort as they headed toward the exit…. comfort that never came as the next few minutes seemed to pass like seconds…

A horrid scream rang through the silence surrounding them, as Sam felt his body fly through the air before coming in contact with something hard and sharp his eyes filling with terror, the young woman who had been braced against his side was gone….

"Sam Look out." His brothers warning was strong and forceful bouncing off the cave walls and echoing.

It wasn't human.

It was unlike anything Sam had ever seen before….

Evil pure evil, the sight alone enough to freeze the frightened young man as he drew in a breath and held it, he wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn't .

Wanted to turn away. But he didn't.

He watched. Helplessly.

The poor innocent girl. whose name he didn't even ask was ripped into like a sack of potatoes. He blood bathing the monster responsible.

Then flames, fire so bright it was almost as though it were alive bathed the cave walls.

And then nothing.

Climbing to his feet the still shaken young man wearily edged closer to the now still figure on the ground and leaned down over her, joined seconds later by his brother at his side.

"Are you alright?" He heard him whisper.

Sam didn't answer.

There was blood.

So much blood.

"We…We have to help her…." His voice shook uncontrollably once he finally found it again.

"She's gone man." Dean sighed softly already able to tell by the impossible angle at which the woman's head lay "He broke her neck."

"No…No…No…" Sam mumbled crouching down and scooping her up into his arms a more than difficult task.

She was limp as a rag doll the blood still pouring from her making his hold on her body slippery.

And her eyes… those eyes, unblinking and vacant, tore into him like daggers… heart piercing soul crushing daggers. He didn't understand… Gone.. She was gone, even though he was supposed to protect her…

"Sammy…" Dean's voice was calm and quiet, carrying more sympathy than Sam could ever remember it carrying before… "It's alright….."

Watching as hot tears, tears of confusion spilled down his baby brother's cheeks the older of the two boys reached over and placed a comforting hand on the others shoulder giving it a firm squeeze, "You did the best you could." He coaxed quietly not to sure how to deal with the situation.

"You boys alright?" John's voice rang through the cave seconds later as he fought to catch his breath coming up next to his son's.

Dean eyed his father before shifting his gaze to his brother who was still staring motionlessly down at the body in his arms.

"C'mon Sammy…" John whispered delicately as he moved in closer and slowly, carefully took the girl from his grasp before draping his arm around Sam's shoulder and leading all of them out of the cave.

-

Dean watched the numbers on the clock change from 1:54 to 1:55 and frowned to himself, he couldn't get the image of his brother out of his mind. The fear, the desperation, the sadness in those innocent orbs was more than he could bare.

He had known Sam wasn't ready, he tried to tell his father, but he wouldn't listen… he wouldn't accept it, give him more time to prepare… and now there were scars, scars that could already be seen below the surface of his baby brother that would never heal.

Hearing the water in the small adjoining bathroom turn on Dean's face shifted into a look of confusion as he rolled over on to his side and found his brother's bed empty.

-

Sam stood in the small motel bathroom his mind still racing and reeling from the events only hours before, all he could hear was that final scream.

His nerves rattling inside his body he looked down at his hands and swallowed hard.

_Dirty…. So Dirty…. Dirty……_

His thoughts scolded him, taunted him as he reached over and turned the water on as hot as it would go and began scrubbing a single solitary tear working it's way down his cheek as he did so….

His heart began racing in his chest, his breath hitching in his throat as his entire body ignited in a uncontrollable tremble.

He had to clean them.

They were dirty.

He was dirty.

Everything was so dirty, he had to clean them, they had to be clean.

Before he knew it, everything surrounding him, all other thoughts in his head had dissipated…. His mind had tunnel visioned into one single thought .

He was dirty, his hands were so dirty. Nothing else mattered, even as he tried and fought to think of something… Anything else, nothing else mattered, and everything came back to that… A simple solution.

He just he needed to clean them, he was dirty and that was all there was to it….

The more his thoughts screamed at him the harder he scrubbed… and the harder he scrubbed the more his thoughts screamed at him.

Tears began to come faster and faster filling the frightened man's eyes and he harshly wiped them on his sleeve…

"clean… I have to clean them…. I have to clean them….. So dirty…." He whispered to himself.

The scolding water was now burning his flesh as Sam watched his skin turn a bright shade of pink, but his hands, his hands still weren't clean, he was still dirty, and that was unacceptable, as unacceptable as failing, as letting that innocent girl die….

"so dirty…. My hands…. My hands…. My hands…."

Grabbing the washcloth from beside the mirror he began to scrub harder and harder until he was rubbing so hard against his flesh that grunts of physical exhaustion were escaping his lips.

"Clean….Clean… Clean…" he found himself pressing down as hard as he could even as the water began to change from clear to red and he knew he was bleeding, he still couldn't stop…

He wasn't clean….

The blood was making him dirty, the blood was dirty… his hands were dirty…

-

Dean frowned deeper watching as the numbers on the clock now turned to read 2:34 Sam had been in the bathroom for almost forty minutes, "Even taking a load off takes less than forty frickin minutes!" He whispered to himself as he threw his blanket off and rose to his feet..

"Sammy? You alright in there" He called out as he approached the door. But as he stepped closer and took note of the steam now escaping through the small open crack at the bottom he knew everything was definitely not alright… "Hey Sam? Are you showering this late?"

As he pushed open the door nothing would have prepared him for what waited on the other side.

There stood his little brother surrounded by steam from the scolding water, his cheeks red tears flying freely down his face as he concentrated on the task at hand exhausted and helpless moans still pouring from his lips. His shoulders were sluggish his knees wobbling… His head shaking back and forth….

"Clean… gotta get clean, can't be dirty……clean… gotta get clean….." He was still whispering to himself.

"Sam, what are you-" Dean's voice died off on his lips as he stepped in closer and saw the sink now decorated in blood…Sam's blood. As the young man continued to scrub diligently and harsh at his flesh…

A look of horror spread across his face as he quickly reached over and shut off the water "What the hell are you doing?"

"DON'T!" Sam screamed his tear filled and anguished eyes looking to his brother and away from his hands, his dirty, dirty hands. "They're dirty… I-I have to clean them…." He reasoned as though it were the most sane statement he had ever spoken

"Dirty? Sam they're bloody."

Closing the gap between them Dean's eyes widened even more then he noticed Sam was still continuing to rub his hands with the washcloth, the sight of his brother's bleeding and raw flesh enough to turn Dean's stomach and force vomit in to his throat "Stop!" Fear laced his voice as he begged reaching into the sink and as carefully as he could prying the washcloth from Sam's raw fingers, "Just stop!" 

"I-I can't….."

"What the hell is the matter with you?" He questioned not knowing what else to do as he set the cloth down into the sink and stepped around his brother blocking his path and holding his wrists tightly

"They're dirty…" came the repetitive response as Sam huffed and began trying to force his wrist from his brother's hold.

"Sam no…" Dean whispered now more sure than ever that something was wrong… it was almost as though his brother were…. Broken. His heart shattered as he looked into the detached, confused and obviously frightened soft brown puppy dog eyes of his little brother.

"alright…" he cooed as he gently took Sam's shoulder and half led, half pushed him back toward the beds, "Lets um, lets call dad."

"I just… I have to wash my hands…"

"You've washed your hands enough tonight."

Sam drew his bottom lip into his mouth as he studied the look of worry in his brothers intense gaze. "Dean?"

"Just….Let me call dad…" Dean took a seat on the bed next to Sam and reached for the phone putting a heavy hand on his baby brother's knee to keep him seated and glancing at him when he noticed the younger boy begin to click his tongue repeatedly in the same pattern each time, three and then two and then three again.

"Dad….Dad… You have to come over here…. It's Sam…I think…I think we broke him….."

-

John sat silently propped up against the headboard of the not so comfortable hotel bed casting his eyes downward and the figure entangled in his grasp he made sure to keep his breaths calm and steady.

Sam's eyes had finally closed. He appeared to finally be sleeping, but still the boys father could not bring himself to loosen the grip he had around his child, his arms securely wrapped around the boys mid section pressing the two of them back to chest.

Slowly he brought his gaze to rest on his other son, Dean was currently sprawled out on the floor in the door jam of the small bathroom, _"just in case…" _He had said… His neck kinked and stiff against the hard surface of the doors frame, John knew he would be feeling that one in the morning.

It had taken them over two hours to calm Sammy down, to bring him back to a manageable sense of reality… Two hours during which time even the eldest of the Winchesters was over taken by fear… What the hell had happened to his son? What had he done to him?

He knew that the right thing to do would have been to take him to the emergency room, to have a doctor examine him…. But John couldn't bring himself to do that. "He'll be fine in the morning…" He had said in an attempt to comfort not only Dean but himself as well. "He's just had a hard night, everything is going to be fine…."

All three men however, even Sam himself knew that that was probably not the case.

Feeling the figure against him stir John's grip instinctively grew tighter, "shhhh sleep Sammy…" he cooed just as he had when the teenager was no more than a child suffering from a nightmare.

And within seconds much to his dad's grateful pleasure, Sam was once again in a restless slumber.

"Tomorrow." John Winchester nodded to himself swallowing, "Tomorrow if this whole thing isn't better then we'll get you some help Sammy, I promise…"

The images of his scared and shattered little boy were the only company the frightened father could find as he himself found his way into an unwanted sleep.

-

Sam's hands were throbbing as he opened his eyes slowly the next morning and found himself still pressed oddly comfortingly against his father's chest. Judging by the man's even and shallow intakes of breath he was obviously still fast asleep.

Quietly and carefully the untangled his limbs from his father's before climbing to his feet and stretching, flashes and memories from the night before throwing themselves about in his mind, reminding him that the night before was not just some bad dream.

"Ouch." He exhaled loudly as he spotted Dean still in the cramped and uncomfortable position inside the small doorframe, looking oddly enough like a solider who had fallen asleep at his post.

"Dean…" He whispered quietly leaning down and gripping his brother's shoulders carefully with his bandaged hands.

"wha…?" Came an almost completely incoherent reply as the older of the two felt his body being lifted and instinctively complied pulling himself to his feet and leaning into his brother who was now in fact more than half an inch taller than he was.

Sam staggered momentarily under the sudden onset extra weight against him, but quickly caught his balance and made his way toward the empty bed on the far side of the room, "Time for bed."

By the time he felt the mattress beneath himself, Sam pulling the blanket up to cover him Dean was once again in the land of lollipops and candy canes, dreaming about whatever in the hell it was someone like him would dream about… Naked girls…. Was Sammy's best guess.

The youngest of the three men and currently the only one who seemed to be wide awake with no hopes of falling back to sleep anytime soon, sighed to himself and ran a shaky gauze covered hand over his face. Still trying to put the pieces together from the previous night, trying to figure out exactly when he had gone from completely sane to completely coo-coo… And how long it was going to be before the men in the pretty white coats came to take him away.

It didn't make sense, none of it made anything even resembling sense, Sam could feel his chest beginning to tighten, a renewed… a different fear engulfing his body and invading his mind. He was in control… he was always in control, he was the most organized, most rational, most mentally healthy person he knew, so what in the hell was happening to him?

He was pulled from his panicked disorganized thoughts when he heard a constant pattern like clicking filling his ears, three times, then two, then three again… then three times, then two, then three again… It was a pattern, an obnoxious yet comforting pattern.

And it was coming from him.

The minute he realized it was his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth that was creating the unharmonious melody the young man silenced it and looked around the room for something… anything to do… He just needed to keep busy, he just needed to stay busy long enough to ease his mind, to preoccupy him until his family woke up.. Then they could figure this out together, this had to be some sort of demon, some spirit inside of him, there had to be a logical, rational, supernatural reason for this…

Didn't there? Of course there did.

Hearing his stomach growl Sam nodded to himself, Food, yes food was always a welcomed distraction… Nothing could go wrong as long as he was shoving food in his mouth, he didn't have to think about that, it would only require hand to mouth coordination… No thinking necessary.

Making his way into the small kitchenette Sam frowned slightly looking from counter to counter, from cupboard to cupboard, he couldn't quite put his finger on it… something was wrong… No everything was wrong… everything was all wrong.

Everything needed to have it's place, everything needed to go somewhere and this was just… Wrong…

He would just fix a few things… Just make it look better, organize it, give it order. There was nothing wrong with that right? It would help him kill time and before he knew it his brother would be awake.

Making his way over to the countertop near the small stove Sam moved all the small plates, cups and bowls out of the cupboard and set them down, "You'd think for a furnished kitchen they would at least furnish it correctly." He mumbled to himself shaking his head and scoffing.

Plates on the left, bowls on the right, cups down below….

White then black then white then black….

"No three black plates and two white plates means it has to go black, white, black, white and then black." He slapped his forehead lightly completely oblivious now to the clicking of his tongue once again as he concentrated on the array of dishes in front of him, they had to be just right…

Cups should go on the bottom, not the top. No the top. No the bottom.

His head shook back and forth a few times and he drew his lip into his mouth swallowing, he knew full well what he was doing, but something… was driving him, it had to be right, this was wrong.

"Wrong… it's all wrong…" He mumbled softly retrieving everything from the shelves again and replacing it on to the counter, he didn't care how long it was going to take he was going to get this right… Everything has it's place…. And there was no excuse for this imperfection.

Dean awoke and found a smile pressed against his lips as remnants of the previous nights dream remained fresh and clear in his mind… He had been having quite the dream… quite the dream indeed.

A dream he quickly realized that was much better than his tortured and confused reality. He sat up slowly and looked around, the events of the night before as fresh as the dream in his mind, he didn't remember falling asleep here… And he had the throbbing pain inside his neck to vouch for it. Mindlessly he brought his hand to the back of his neck and rubbed it gingerly a hiss of breath escaping his lips. "Terrific." He groaned.

Hearing the sound of clanking dishes in the small kitchen area only now Dean looked to the bed where he had last seen his brother and father the night before. John was still fast asleep, and Sam was no where to be found.

Making his way toward the ruckus in the kitchen Dean paused at the entrance and crossed his arms over his chest, _and so the nightmare continues…. _He thought to himself taking inventory of the dishes displayed in front of his brother who was once again babbling incoherently …. This time about order and placement rather than dirty hands.

"Plates on the right bowls on the left, cups on the bottom, everything is going to have it's place, everything is going to have order…."

The older man's forehead wrinkled in concern as he watched the scene unfolding, it was like something out of a movie, one of those films about crazy people where they lock you up and stick you in a padded cell. This wasn't his brother he was watching, it couldn't be….

"DAMN-IT!" Sammy hissed picking up one of the plates about to toss it against the wall when he felt a strong set of arms come up around him from behind.

"Put it down." came a soft yet firm command.

"It's wrong Dean, it's all wrong…."

"It's fine Sammy…"

"No it's not!"

"Put the plate down." The older, stronger man repeated, "Please?"

"I-I just…." Sam's voice died off on his now quivering lips and he exhaled defeatedly as tears found their way to his eyes for the third time in the last twenty four hours…

"It's alright," Dean's voice was encouraging, "We'll figure this out… You me and dad, we will get to the bottom of this."

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Am..Am I crazy?" it was as innocent a question as they come and the simple context of it caused a lump the size of a grapefruit to form in Dean's throat as he tried over and over again to swallow it down.

"No… No of course you're not crazy Sammy…."

"Well then what's wrong with me? Why, why can't I stop myself from doing these things? Why are my thoughts all….. Weird… what the hell is happening to me Dean?"

"I-I don't know but dad and I we're gonna take you to the doctor alright we're gonna figure this out…" The answer was more than repetitive but it was the only one the desperate brother could come up with, it was the only thing he could think to say.

"Are you sure I'm not crazy."

"Positive" Dean nodded watching as Sam continued to eye the dishes in front of him eagerly, even if the truth was… He wasn't sure of anything anymore… He didn't have the answers… not this time… Sam didn't need to know that.

-

The doctor's office was small….To small…. And quiet… To quiet, as Dean looked at his father his knees bouncing in anticipation, they had been sitting, waiting for over two hours, "What the hell is taking so long?" He quipped finally unable to stand it anymore.

"I don't know."

"Well, can't you go up to the bitch behind the desk and make her tell you something… Anything? It's been over two hours he should be out here by now."

"Dean." John sighed softly looking up from the old issue of Time magazine he had been 'pretending' to read a frown on his lips, "She doesn't know anymore than we do right now… You just… you have to try to be patient."

"Patience was never my strong point." Dean's nose twitched as he leaned back heavily in the uncomfortable mauve waiting room chair and closed his eyes exhaling. "This sucks."

Thankfully it was only another few minutes before both men's attention was drawn to the small door only feet away as it opened and out stepped the man they knew to be Sam's doctor. "Thank god." Dean mumbled to himself rising to his feet and attempting to peer behind the man. "Where's Sammy?"

The older man whose name tag read Dr. Weatherbee offered Dean a comforting smile, "No need to worry Mr. Freely your brother is fine, he's still in the exam room, I thought it would be better if I talked to you and your father alone for a few minutes… That's all. I wanted to explain your brothers condition."

Condition? Since when did Sammy have a condition?

"Come again?" Dean's brow cocked questioningly as he felt his father approach behind him.

"Maybe we should sit down."

"I don't want to sit down, I want you to tell me what the hell is going on with my brother."

"Dean please." John frowned bringing his hand to rest on his eldest's shoulder. "Forgive him doctor, he's just a little up tight right now."

"It's quite alright." Dr. Weatherbee pulled the manila file from under his arm and opened it, "The good news is that Sam is in perfect physical health." He began cautiously moving his eyes from Dean to John then back again, "The bad news however… is that after extensive testing, it is clearly apparent that your son is suffering from what we in the medical field call OCD. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, onset by an obviously over traumatic experience."

"OCD?" Dean felt his stomach twist a little nausea creeping up into his senses, "So Sam was right then? He is crazy?"

"No….Dean, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder doesn't mean that your brother is crazy, that is a common misconception. In Sam's case it simply means that his brain has triggered the desire the uncontrollable urge for order in his life… for a world that makes sense. The signs have more than likely always been there, but have gone unnoticed or ignored until their severity increased with a recent event. Sam said that he watched someone close to him pass on…Someone he felt responsible for?"

John nodded a little rubbing his stubble covered chin and hanging on the doctor's every word. "Yesterday."

"Unfortunately there is no set cause for Sam's condition so I can't pin point that as the indefinite cause, but that would be my educated guess as it is with the cases like your son's that I have seen before, the stress, the feeling of loss of control caused him to tailspin."

"How do we help him?" Dean asked bluntly having heard enough for this mans fancy medical terms and worthless words of encouragement.

"Well that is also good news, there are medicines that we can prescribe to steady the levels of serotonin in his brain, which is also a large factor when it comes to OCD, anti-depressants that will help him cope and ease the feelings of depression he is harboring inside… I would also like for Sam to visit with a behavioral specialist, as well as the two of you…"

"A specialist…."

"Yes, he will help all of you deal with these episodes, so that when it happens again not only sam but you as well can deal with the situation and feel a sense of comfort."

"He doesn't need a specialist… just give him the pills and let us go… fix him and let us take him home!"

John gave the shoulder still in his grasp a squeeze, "Dean… it's alright son…. We will get him whatever help he needs… We will fix him up good as new…"

"He-he can't be sick dad."

"Dean, I need you to understand something for me…" The older man in the white coat spoke quietly, "OCD… it's not a sickness in the way that you might be thinking…. Your brother is not going to die, in fact he's going to be just fine, as long as you are strong enough to help him through this alright? Can you do that for me? For him?"

Dean nodded numbly and stuck his hands nervously into his pockets rattling his keys around, "Can I uh, can I see my brother now please?"

Dr. Weatherbee nodded a small smile appearing on his lips, "Of course, he's down the hall third door on the right, he's probably wondering where we all ran off to anyway, your father and I can finish up here…"

-

As dean stood outside the room he knew would lead to his brother he drew as much air as he could into his lungs and released it. He needed to be strong, he needed to help Sammy pull through this one, no matter how he felt about all of it, no matter what he was going through, as always Sammy, his Sammy would have to come first.

Opening the door he forced a painful and cocky smile on to his lips and stepped in, Sam's shoes were the first thing he noticed as he kept his eyes cast just a little downward. Shoes that were attached to legs that swung idly back and forth.

"Hey." Sam cleared his throat immediately noticing the amount of tension surrounding his brother.

Dean didn't want to look up. Didn't want to look into his brother's eyes, he was afraid, so afraid of what he was going to see staring back at him… He couldn't…But he had to.

So he did.

And to his surprise… There was no crazy sick person staring back at him.

Just Sammy, with the same wide and innocent eyes he had always wore.

"Hey." his smile grew as he answered.

"So…" it was now Sam's turn to look away, "I guess from what the doctor says… I'm pretty screwed in the head… probably always have been…"

"Nah… You're fine…Everything is going to be just fine."

The confidence, the strength in his brothers words caused Sam's head to rise again as he studied the man standing feet in front of him. "How do you know?"

"Well…" Dean chuckled, "Because I'm the oldest which mean's I'm always right…"

_There it is just a little something that I couldn't seem to get out of my head, as my normal readers will tell you I feed off of reviews and opinions so please let me in on what you are thinking…. I want to know it all the good the bad and the indifferent. There will eventually be two more installments to this story but I figured this was a good place to end it._


	2. Ashes Ashes We all Fall Down

-1Part 2: Ashes, Ashes We All Fall Down

For more than six months after Sam's diagnosis the Winchester's made the obvious and unarguable decision to remain in Minnesota, all three of them jumping actively into Sam's "sickness" as Dean called it. Going to specialists with him, learning about the stem of both his obsessions and compulsions, and more importantly learning how to handle certain situations when they arose.

John and Dean watched and studied Sam as he entered into behavioral therapy, learning the techniques involved, Exposure and Ritual preventions, taking note of everything and tucking it away inside of themselves for the hard times and rough spots, they knew would come and go as Sammy's life progressed.

Dr. Weatherbee was an amazing doctor and just the same an amazing man, during the six months of treatments and therapies he would sit with both Sam alone and the family as a whole, counseling them, lending an ear, offering them explanations to the best of his ability… and even going as far as to give them his home number in case he couldn't be reached in the office, or was off duty.

As time passed with medication, newly learned techniques and believe it or not a strong family support system, the three men adjusted adequately to the cards they had been dealt, and Sam became a "whole person" again, going to school, living his life, even hunting. With only a few minor slips or "episodes" as they were medically referred to here and there, Sammy the youngest of the Winchester bloodline was okay, he was better than ok, he was exceptional. There was nothing that any of them couldn't handle…

Or so they thought.

**November 2nd 2005**

Dean held tightly to his brother's shoulders as he heard scream after scream ringing through his ears.

"JESS…NO….JESS!"

Sam's voice was angry and mortified. His cheeks red not only from the fire they had narrowly escaped, but from the anguish that now had so instantly embedded it's self into his soul. Jessica, his Jess… The love of his life was gone. Burned up. Set a blaze. Just as their mother had been when he was only a mere infant.

She was his everything, he had planned on spending the rest of his life with here, he was going to marry her, she was his happiness… His stability. His heart. And now she was no more.

The bright glowing flames of the fire reflected against his glassed over eyes and created an image, a horrifying and undoubtedly gut wrenching image that he refused to believe… This wasn't happening, he hadn't seen what he knew all to well he saw…

She was still in there, he needed to save her… He needed her.

"I-I have to save her, I have to save her, I-I have to." He was of course speaking his mindless rambles more to himself than anyone else… He knew what needed to be done, he knew what he had to do, she was in there. He had to save her.

Lunging forward the now twenty two year old college senior growled in disapproval as he felt a strong set of arms holding him back once again.

"LET ME GO!" He spat out venomously. "THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND IN THERE!"

Dean's heart was breaking for his younger sibling as he simply gripped tighter to the shoulder beneath his grasp and shook his head his tone soft and apologetic. "She's not in there anymore Sammy, she's gone man, you know that, she's gone… come on." It took every ounce of strength the older man had to pull him further from the scene of what the medics and fire department were terming a tragic 'accident'.

_Accident… _Dean scoffed at the term this was no accident, this was a creature… an otherworldly sadistic bastard… This was… His life… And his baby brother's worst nightmare

"No….No….No…" Sam shook his head almost mechanically as he forced himself to swallow down a mouth full of bile that had once more risen into his throat.

"Yes…" Dean lowered his brother down slowly on to the curb across from what remained of his apartment building and kneeled down in front of him. "Sammy…"

As the tormented man's head came up Dean's frown increased watching as Sam's gaze shifted left to right, left to right and left to right again looking anywhere and everywhere but at his brother… his protector the only person he had left in his crumbling world.

"I'm going to go talk to the officers…I need you to stay here alright? Can you do that?… I need to get you out of here…."

The man's shoulders shrugged a little before his chin dropped down to his chest again. He couldn't look, he couldn't look he wasn't going to look, if he didn't look it wasn't real… It wasn't real… it wasn't happening.

He listened as Dean's feet grew further and further away, leaving him in darkness that only seemed to be lit by the deadly fire that had robbed him, even the flashes of sirens paled in comparison to the fire of hell that had reached up and taken Jessica… His Jessica….

Bringing his head down into his hands he shook it lightly back and forth…. He needed comfort… he needed control… control…. Control was comfort… this wasn't happening…. This wasn't happening not to him, not this…

Jessica…

She was now another name added to the list of innocents he hadn't managed to save, hadn't been man enough to fight hard enough for….

But she wasn't just a name…

He loved her…

He needed her….

She was dead….

Everything was out of control…. So out of control Sam felt the barrier of sanity inside himself snap, but he didn't care… he was sure he would never care about anything again, not the way he had about her.

And he hadn't saved her, he let her die, he hadn't saved her and now she was gone, forever.

Stolen taken from him.

A chill worked it's way repeatedly down his spine as he tried, fought to soften the screams and the pictures so prominent inside his mind.

Dead. She was dead, he let her die, he was empty, so empty, and it hurt.

-

Dean stood impatiently bouncing on his heels as the man whose name tag read Officer M. Macdowell talked hurriedly into his walkie talkie, spouting off numbers and codes that Dean was sure he knew, he understood, but at this moment in time he could care less about…

Finally an eternity later the middle aged man noticed his presence and turned around offering him a sympathetic smile, "Mr. Winchester… How is your brother holding up over there?"

Dean stopped bouncing and drew his lip into his mouth, "That's what I need to talk to you about, are you done with him yet? You see… He uh, he sort of has this condition… And I'm afraid that being here any longer than he needs to… is going to…send him…"

He exhaled loudly this was not coming out as easily as he had hoped, he still had a tendency to dance around the facts when it came to Sam's mental status. But now was definitely not the time to be so delicate. "Look, he suffers from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and in his case as in many… Added stress can bring on an episode the size of China… So I would really like to get him the hell out of here before that happens, so…. if your through with your questions."

Officer Mac Dowell nodded understandingly and scratched the back of his neck glancing over his notes before answering, "We are done with him… we have his cell number if anymore questions should come up we will give him a ring."

"Thanks." Dean turned on his heels and began to head hurriedly back to his brother, the last thing he wanted… the last thing Sam needed was to be left alone at a time like this.

"Please give him our condolences once again" He heard the man call after him.

-

Sam was still in the same position he had been, aside from his head now resting in his hands, and his brother knew as he looked down at him that this was going to be a long and painful night for the two of them with or without an episode accompanying it.

"Let's go…." He coaxed grabbing the dazed man by the arm and pulling him up slowly.

There it was again.

Sam tried to look away, but he couldn't… The life he had made for himself, a life with his love, his jess, now no more than a pile of ash and smoking embers of flame lay out before his very eyes…

And he couldn't stop looking at it.

It was calling to him…

The memory.

The nightmare.

The loss.

Everything was out of control.

Twisted and tortured his insides began to churn and the voices in his head began to scream… louder than before… louder than ever.

The shorter and older of the men snapped his fingers quickly in front of the staring man's orbs, first once and then twice trying to divert his attention, "Sam… Sammy… come on little brother…"

Gone…. She's gone… she's all gone….You did this… remember you did this…. She's gone….GONE!

He couldn't stop them, the taunting and scorn filled patterned thoughts inside his mind that pounded like tiny hammers against his skull.

"She's gone?" Came a breathless whisper more than twenty seconds later, the tone broken and soft

Reassurance, more often times positive than not was a big step in the life of an OCD sufferer, Dean remembered that first and foremost inside his mind as he held open the door to his black 1967 Impala and practically had to push his brother into it's passengers seat..

"You're going to be alright…." No matter how twisted his own insides felt he made sure to keep his voice and his demeanor strong and confident… for Sammy. "I'm here with you and we're going to get through this."

Sam didn't answer.

Sam didn't believe.

His thoughts wouldn't let him.

Pulling the door closed he leaned his head against it and closed his eyes.

A bad dream. This is all just a bad dream. A bad Dream. A very bad dream.

Just like before. Like before. Like before when he knew this was going to happen.

She's gone. She's gone and he might as well be gone too.

Hell he was crazy. Even if the doctors tried to reassure him. Even if they told him he wasn't.

He was as crazy as they come.

Click, click, click

Click, click

Click, click, click

Crazy, yes he was definitely crazy, this wasn't happening, he didn't want this to be happening, he couldn't control this, he couldn't make it right, couldn't fix it…

He tried, willed himself to think about something else, anything else, to make these thoughts go away, this constant insanity ticking inside of him subside.

But he was insane. Crazy. Crazy. Unbelievably, undeniably, crazy…. That was the only explanation for any of this, for all of this, for his whole life.

Sam's tongue pounded in the all to familiar pattern against the roof of his mouth

Click, click, click

Click, click

Click, click, click

His eyes remained closed and Dean ran a shaking hand through his hair as the roar of the engine beneath him was disturbed by the patterned behavioral clicking of his baby brother's tongue. "Shit…" He mumbled to himself before reaching over and resting his hand on Sammy's leg. His Frown deepening as it too had picked up the two, three two rhythm, trembling below his fingers, bouncing .

"Sam." His voice was low and firm.

Sam's eyes opened and he took in a breath immediately his tongue stopped and seconds after so did his leg, his broken gaze finding it's way to his brother.

"Hold it together. Come on man. Hold it together, there is a motel not to far up ahead here…We'll get in there, get you your medicine… How are you doing huh?"

"Fine."

Neither brother was convinced by that single word and Dean knew it was his job to push for the emotion, even if he didn't want to… Touchy feely never was his style.

"You were clicking."

"Sorry…." Sam's voice was hardly audible enough to be heard before his head went back to it's previous position eyes closed resting against the cool glass of the passenger window.. "Sorry…"

Sorry. She is dead. Sorry it's my fault.

Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

Bad. Bad. Bad.

Even though it was only a few short minutes drive it seemed like it took an eternity before the older of the two men finally saw the flashing red vacancy light of a motel up ahead and swung into the parking lot. The November down pour of heavy rain not helping the situation in the slightest.

Sam felt the engine shut off, felt Dean's hand on his shoulder and automatically opened his eyes even if he didn't bother to shift his gaze.

"I'll be right back. You just stay here and keep yourself relaxed. I'm going to go get us a room. Deep breaths" he instructed before he shut the door behind himself locking Sam inside and the entire world outside.

Locking Sam inside with his thoughts.

His memories.

Click, click, click

Click, click

Click, click, click

Jess… He could still see her smile, hear her laughter, smell the sweet sent of ivory soap that always lingered around her like an aura…

A beautiful and peaceful aura.

Gone. Gone. She was gone.

Alone. Sam was Alone. Alone.

Breathe.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. Can't think. Can't breathe can't think…

Didn't want to think.

If he could think about not thinking then he wasn't thinking about Jess.

Jess his Jess…

Can't breathe.

His tongue was clicking faster now the repetitive motion accompanied by the shaking of his head as he fumbled for the knob and threw the door open.

Away. He needed to go. Needed to go somewhere anywhere.

Air he needed air. He needed to breathe.

Crazy. He was crazy.

All his thoughts jammed themselves inside his head like an over crowded phone booth 20 deep.

They didn't make sense. They were all weird again.

Broken.

His heart thumping mercilessly, his chest constricting with each forced and struggled intake of breath.4

Away. He needed to get away. Dean didn't need to see him like this. Dean already knew he was crazy. He didn't need to show him how right he was, he needed to get away.

The rain pounding against his numb flesh Sam's head was shaking back and forth harder now as he began to tap his forehead with his palm in his chosen pattern.

Three. Two. Three

After all everything, even his episodes needed to have order, everything needed to have order, Order made life easier.

Wrong. Everything was all wrong. His life.. His life was wrong… He loved her… Loved her so much… She was his… His everything… His breath…. His life….

It was only now that the preoccupied man found himself comprehending his surroundings, only now that he felt the rain pounding down on him, like tears from the angels in heaven they showered him, bathed him…

Something that some would find comfort in.

Not Sam..

Rain was dirty. Dirty like his hands had been that day so many years before. He could feel it evaporating into his skin making it's way down to his soul, soiling… burning his insides.

Dirty, every single drop dirtier than the next.

Dirty. Dirty. Dirty. Inside… Outside…. Dirty.

"the car…. The car…" He nodded to himself turning back toward the safety of his brothers beloved Impala, "In the car, gotta get in the car…."

Can't breathe in there, no air, he couldn't get back in the car he couldn't breathe in there….

Confused. So confused.

He turned away now taking three steps back out into the rain and stopping.

"Dirty…. Dirty rain,, dirty soul, dirty rain, dirty soul…"

Sam's feet shifted directions and he growled his tongue once more clicking so fast and so hard the muscles began to ache within seconds.

He took two steps back in the direction from which he had first come, in the direction of the safety of Dean's car.

Not safe… can't breathe… can't breathe…

Three steps deeper into the rain.

Three toward the car.

Two toward the rain.

Back and forth back and forth, a sob interrupting the comforting melody his tongue provided the distressed man swallowed hard and fast his feet moving in a quick and confused pattern, he was confused, so confused.

And broken, shattered from the inside out.

His thoughts, thoughts of simplistic repetitive actions had long since dulled the pain of his lost beloved. His Jess…

-

Dean thanked the woman behind the desk and gripped tighter to the key in his hand, his own thoughts revolving around the events of the night, over playing them rewinding and dissecting them, trying to figure out exactly how he… and more importantly how Sam had ended up here.

His brother didn't deserve this, he was a good kid, he was living his life… And now the only stability the only sense of normalcy, sense of belonging he had, was ripped away from him taking a part of his soul, his heart along with it

Dean wished there was something he could do, anything he could do to make this all go away, make this some sort of vivid nightmare that his brother could wake up from and find his life still peaches and cream…

But there wasn't. And that angered Dean more than the situation it's self.

He couldn't fix it, he couldn't fight it, he couldn't save Sammy.

Stepping out of the office his thoughts were halted as he looked up to see a sopping wet figure feet away from him, the man's feet moving in an arrangement of steps that were more than familiar to Dean's eyes, the same arrangements as the clicking tongue, the bouncing knee, the checking of the door locks, the rolling down of a window… and even the answering to a stress inducing question.

"Damn-it Sammy." He whispered quickly before sprinting out into the parking lot and coming only centimeters from an un-aware and episodic Sammy.

"MMMMMM….NO…NO….no… Sam,

shhh…Dirty…Dirty…

Breathe….Breathe….

Crazy… no…. no… Sam… shhhhh….

Dirty, out of the rain…

out of the rain,

in the car, can't breathe in the car…."

His entire body was trembling, his jaw bone shaking harder than the rest, his eyes staying focused on the road beneath his feet…. It was a sight…. An image that Dean knew he would never forget….

And the older of the two man briefly found himself wondering if he had simply forgot how severe an episode can become… Or if this was really the worst he had seen his brother react to a situation…. He didn't remember the strangled breathing sounds with each word, the mixing of thoughts and ramble, so many repetitions.

Broken. Sam was broken again and now Dean had to fix him alone. His father wasn't here to take the reigns, to make it right… It was Dean's battle now.

"Sam." He kept his tone commanding as he closed the remaining space between the two of them and purposefully blocked the continuation of his brother's pattern. "Sam."

"I-I… can't, can't get in the car, can't get in the car Dean, can't breathe… can't breathe…. Can't breathe in there…" He never looked up as sub-consciously he knew his brother was blocking his pattern his body shifted to side step the shorter man as his hand came up once again to begin tapping on his forehead.

If he broke pattern… No he couldn't break pattern, pattern was comfort, control… control and comfort….

Sam was quick… But Dean was quicker as he watched Sam's body shift to side step he reached out with a strong hand and clasped it around Sam's forearm immediately halting him in his steps.

The rambling stopped and tongue began again, as he tried desperately to squirm free of Dean's hold.

"Sammy… You know what you're doing…. Deep breath…"

"NO! NO! NO!….NO! NO!"

"Sammy…" To Dean's own surprise his voice was even, indifferent as he reached out and gripped his brothers chin just hard enough to have a good hold forcing the two man face to face, his other hand still holding tight to Sam's arm. "Deep breath…. The rain is not going to hurt you… Breathe with me come on."

The now confined man attempted to pull his face away, the scattered thoughts dancing around his brain making it nearly impossible to focus on his brother's face so close to his. "Can't…. Can't…. Dean let go…. Let go Dean let go…"

"You know that the rain is not going to hurt you…. You know that you are having an episode Sammy…. You know these things…. I need you to take a deep breath for me alright… Can you do that? Can you take a deep breath?"

"Dean….." Came an unsure and small response as the youngest Winchester began to repeatedly scrape his teeth against his bottom lip as though he were contemplating the matter…

Even though they both knew he wasn't….

He wasn't capable of that at this moment, he was simply finding another repetitive action to take place of the one he was being restricted from, trying to keep his thoughts in a 'safety zone.'

"let go…. Let go Dean…."

"You're going to be alright Sammy… You're going to be alright…. But you need to breathe, you need to calm yourself down right now…. "

Sam shook his head even as his lips finally obeyed the instructions being tossed at him, the slender and frightened figure bringing his hand up and gripping his brother's bicep hard. He needed strength he needed, hope, he needed something anything…. Even as for the moment he felt his mind slipping back into the consciousness of a painful and grave reality….

"You're okay…" His brother's words were only a small alleviation as he drew in another breath…. Apprehension still in his steps and his movements moments later when Dean found it safe to get him back into the car.

"I-I can't De-"

"Yes, you can, you can breathe, we'll roll the windows down alright? I'm right here with you, you're going to be just fine Sammy. When have I ever let anything happen to you huh? When have I ever lied to you?"

"You haven't."

"That's right." Dean closed his brother's door and ran around to the other side as fast as his feet would carry him climbing in and immediately rolling the windows down,.

"Dean…." The sound of his brother's voice was frightened and unstable as Dean watched out of the corner of his eye Sam's fingers fumbling for the door knob.

"No." Came a quick and automatic retort as the right minded of the two kept one hand on the wheel and quickly gathered his brother's own hands with the other gripping them tightly as he felt them twitch against his flesh.

Then.

Click, click, click

Click, click

Click, click, click

It was softer and less frantic than before, but it was present none the less and it was constant Dean knew it meant the thoughts in his brother's head were still obsessive, still repeating, still painful as he drove around the parking lot to the other side of the motel and pulled into an empty space.

-

Dean didn't even bother to unpack the car aside from Sam's over night bag which was thrown into the back seat as they now sat in the empty under sized motel room. The younger of the two placed in the center of the twin sized bed farthest from the door wringing his hands over and over again in his lap trying to ease his thoughts, trying not to think.

His breaths were even and controlled even if his thoughts weren't. His limbs were for the most part still and motionless even as his muscles continued to ache. His voice silent no matter how badly he wanted to scream.

He could do this.

He could remain controlled.

Wait it out.

Dean watched his brother without a word out of the corner of his eye, pretending to stare interestingly at the muted television from where he lay on the other bed, the bed closest to the door… closest to Sam's escape.

"You okay?" He questioned quietly in an attempt to break the silence, unable to bare the discomfort any longer, he found himself questioning his brothers quietness, wondering if the silence meant the thoughts inside his head had subsided… Or if Sam just wanted him to believe they had, to believe the whole outburst was over.

"fine."

"You sure?"

"I said I'm fine Dean."

"The parking lot scene said different."

"I didn't mean to…"

"I know, but you remember what doc Weatherbee said, you can't control it, it's not your fault, and if you try to mask it, try to hold it in, it's not going to help… You're only going to suffer harder…"

"Don't you mean go crazier?"

"Sammy, I've told you already, just because…. Doesn't mean you're sick, it just means that you're more delicate…"

"You make it sound feminine…"

"I do not."

"You just don't want it to sound like the truth."

"Sam. Stop. You're not crazy, and that's the end of it. Now try to get some rest please…."

Sam found argument screaming inside of him but with single glance in his brother's direction let that too embed it's self inside of him. How the hell was he supposed to sleep? How was he supposed to just turn everything off and shut down? Was Dean not there tonight? Had he not seen everything that Sam had? Had he not witnessed the same events? Or was he really just that hopeful that the solution to all of this was just some rest?

But still Sam didn't say a word, there wasn't enough left in him to start a war he knew he would lose. So removing his shoes he made his way up on to the pillow and turned his body on to his side staring into the blank white nothingness of the wall.

"Dean?"

"Hmmm?"

"Did you lock the door?"

"The door is locked. You locked it."

"I should check it…"

"It's locked, I can see it from here."

"I need to check it…." this time Sam's voice instinctively carried a more pleading tone.

"No Sammy, you don't."

"Maybe….Maybe, I didn't close it all the way, or maybe the lock is broken… maybe…."

"Sammy, shhhh…"

"But-" the panic already beginning to return to his insides the younger of the two began to climb from the bed, he needed to check… needed to see…. Needed to know….

The door needed to be locked, the world outside, the demons, the creatures, everything needed to be outside. And him inside, inside safe and tucked away,

Tucked away with his brother, his brother and his thoughts,

Thoughts about Jess…She's gone now. Something killed her, stole her, the same something that stole his mother…

He needed to check the door now. He really needed to check the door.

The door had to be locked.

Dean sighed and rose to his feet as he watched Sam beginning to get up the expression he wore tipping off the older of the two that his inner turmoil was once again stirring, that he was losing himself in a mixture of jumbled and more times than not needless thoughts.

"We'll check it together…" He instructed as he took Sam's forearm and the two of them headed toward the front door.

Sam reached his hand out to grip the knob and was quickly prevented from doing so. "No, you're not going to touch it… I will."

"Dean-"

"Sam." The dominate older brother inside him now in full mode Dean's words left no room for argument, "You know what's going to happen if you touch that door knob."

"I-I'll only twist it once, I just-"

"No, you won't and you and I both know that."

The door was in fact locked, securely and completely shut, no one was going to get through it, Sammy saw that with his own eyes, he knew it wasn't going to open… somewhere inside of him, logically he knew that it was closed. Locked.

But still he was not satisfied. He was never satisfied, always questions, questions inside his mind, creating and uneasiness.

"Dean…" a plea a beg so withered and so childlike it was as though the unsatisfied man was near tears.

"You saw for yourself man, the door is locked, you need to trust me on this, I'm your brother, I watch out for you…. Nothing it going to come in here, nothing and no one alright… Now go on and get yourself some rest… Or I'll have to make you take something to sleep."

"No…" Even though his knees wobbled as he did so, his brain once again in full scream Sam made his way back to the bed and climbed into it.

Dean would protect him, Dean would watch over him. Dean was never going to-

He tried to reassure himself with his own thoughts but he found no such comfort and no such luck…

Dean couldn't always be there, Dean would be gone someday too, like Jess…

His Jess…

She was gone….

He hadn't saved her… He hadn't saved her and now she was gone…. Gone… Not gone, Taken, taken by the same thing that had taken the only other woman he had ever had in his life… a woman he didn't even remember…

Taken when he could have saved her.

More than just a bad dream….

He could of stopped it… Could've done something…. But he didn't…

And now she suffered, he suffered…

He deserved to suffer….

He was bad… so bad…. Bad…. He should've stopped it….

Click, click, click

Click, click

Click, click, click

"bad…. Should've saved her…. I-I- No."

Click, click, click

Click, click

Click, click, click

Warmth. He could feel a firm yet comforting hand against his back, circles being rubbed there gently. Even as his thoughts eluded him, taunted him, tortured him and destroyed him.

"Easy Sammy…. Easy just relax." Came a firm and comforting demand. "You're not bad, you didn't know… You couldn't have known…."

"Sorry…. Sorry Dean….I'm sorry…. So sorry…"

"Shhhh, relax little brother, just relax, there's nothing for you to be sorry for you just try to calm yourself down…"

"Can't…. I can't…. I need to do something, clean…. I can clean…. Dirty, everything is all dirty again… me I'm dirty…. Dirty from the rain… from all of it…"

"No, no you're not."

"I AM! I AM DIRTY!"

"Shhhh….Did you even take your medicine today?" Dean thought now would be the best time to bring up something, anything to break into Sam's self abusive thoughts.

"Don't need it…. Don't need it…"

"Yes you do."

"No….Jess… don't need it because of her/, I would talk to her…. Talk to her and everything would be okay again…"

"I'm here. Talk to me, tell me what Jess would talk to you about."

"I failed the bar, I failed the bar like I failed her."

"You didn't fail her Sammy, things like this just happen, this is no ones fault."

"Failed I failed… I failed…."

"shhhh…"

Click, click, click

"Sammy…. Relax."

"She's dead… Dead and- and I can't bring her back, dead and I couldn't stop it, dead like mom, dead and gone."

Dean felt the back beneath his touch tense even further and his brows came together in worry, he wished his father was here, John always knew what to do, John always knew how to handle these situations, but he wasn't here, he was missing, and that of course wasn't helping the situation at all. "This is something you can't control Sammy, I know that you want to, and I wish that you could… But it's not your fault and you can't control it."

Sometimes when his brother was experiencing an 'episode' it reminded Dean of a child, the way you had to talk in simplistic terms, the way you had to comfort and reassure them, the way they depended on you to pull them through whatever hell it was they locked themselves inside of.

It just didn't seem fair.

Sam's eyes shut slowly the circling of his brother's hand against the small of his back the only comfort he found against the thoughts raging like a wild fire inside his head. A fire like the one that had caused all of this, had taken his only true love, had ruined his life and destroyed the inner piece he had finally found after so many years, a lifetime of suffering.

Silence surrounded them for a good five minutes before Dean heard whimpering again and signed to himself the figure on the bed beginning to shake his head back and forth roughly against the pillow.

"Sammy…" He coaxed softly remaining evenly tempered, "You need to relax."

"No… no, no…. can't…. can't Dean. Just can't… can't stop them, can't stop my head, can't stop …. Tell me, tell me she's not gone, tell me Dean, tell me he didn't take her, tell me….. Please… please please please…. "

"I can't, but I can tell you that we're going to get through this… You and me little brother, we are going to get through this, and you're going to be okay."

"Need to, need to do something, anything, so much to be done, don't you understand….Find dad, dad can help…. Dad… dad's missing too…. We can find him."

"We will Sam."

"Now Dean! Now!"

Click, click, click

Click, click

Click, click, click

"Shh…" Dean wished he had the right words to say, wish he knew what to do, and at this moment he really wished his father was around, he wished they had found him, that he didn't have to deal with this alone, didn't have to pull Sam through when he himself seemed to be drowning. "I'm gonna go get your medicine now. I know you don't want to take it, but you need it Sammy…."

"Go… Go…." Sam nodded a little fighting the urge to continue clicking his tongue as he felt the bed beneath him shift as his brother rose up off of it and headed into the bathroom.

"Dean… Dean's going to help, he's going to help me. Just keep busy, just keep busy and everything will go away…"

The younger of the two men found his eyes again forcing themselves in the direction of the motel room door.

"check it, just check it and you'll feel better…Dean won't know, Dean doesn't have to know."

The knob turned and Sam pushed, but the door didn't budge, it was locked, it was secure. His hand fell from the small silver object and he eyed it with distain.

It was locked.

Wasn't it?

He needed to check it again.

Needed to make sure.

So again, his trembling fingers wrapped around the knob and turned it.

It was locked… Secure.

His breath hitched in his throat and he found himself panting for the next, without even thinking about it, without even realizing it, the ritual began again and again.

He knew it was locked, but worry…. Need…. Caused him to check again and again.

Lost in the glory of simple minded repetition, a worry that for once allowed him to forget about Jess, even if this whole thing was brought on by her death, he didn't hear the bathroom door open, he didn't hear the click of the light switch , the sound of his brother's feet crunching against the carpet.

"just one more time… just once more and then you'll lay back down… have to be safe, have to be safe and have to know it's locked, have to check, have to see, have to know."

"Damn-it." Dean rubbed his hand harshly over his face as he cursed inwardly, even two minutes, one hundred and twenty seconds was to long to leave his brother's side.

Cautiously, slowly he approached.

"Sammy… What are you doing?" His voice again carried the tone a father would use when speaking to a child no more than six or seven.

"Checking… Something is wrong… need to keep checking and making sure, the door is locked, closed, no one can come in here…"

"I told you not to touch it."

"I had to… had to see…Had to know."

"You've checked now, and you know that it's locked." The shorter stronger man reached out and gripped his brothers hand bindingly as he saw it headed back to the doors knob. It trembled in his grasp as he did so.

"Just once more?"

"No, come on let's get your medicine in you."

"No, no just one more… Just one more time…" Sam's eyes stayed focused on the door knob, focused on the small insignificant object even as Dean came around front of him and began pushing him back toward the bed. An object that in his broken mind gave him something to focus on, obsess over, an object to help him forget.

Dean knew how debilitating Sam's "sickness" could be, sometimes though, sometimes he would almost forget… This night though, as he pushed the tall limber frame of his younger sibling down on to the not so soft mattress of his motel bed,… As he looked into eyes of confusion, pain and despair, he knew he would never forget again.

Eyes begging, pleading with him, for help.

Help he could not give.

"Take these." He kneeled down holding out two tranquilizers and a bottle of water, "Take them at let them help you."

"Crazy….I am crazy…I am Dean, I'm sorry…"

"No you're not,."

"mhmmmm….I am."

"You've had a hard night, hell you've had a hard couple of days… I knew this was coming. You're not crazy, and you don't need to be sorry."

"Eggshells, always walking on them, waiting waiting for me to break, waiting to see me fall, you have to pick me up, have to fix me all the time… Sorry….Sorry." came a scattered yet honest retort as Sam began to pick at the hem of his shirt heavily.

Wrong. Everything was just all wrong.

And he wished he could just turn it off.

Turn everything off.

"Sam." Dean felt only the slightest tinge of irritation building as he shook his head and let out a slow calming breath, "That's not true, you're my little brother, it's my job to look out for you, it's what I want to do… Now come on take your pills and lets get some sleep."

Sam did as he was told and a few minutes later was lying restlessly on his pillow once again whispering to himself clearing his throat every now and again in an attempt to interrupt his internal argument.

Dean took post faithfully at his side sitting on the mattresses edge and returning to rubbing circles of comfort against his baby brother's back words of encouragement sporadically exiting his lips.

"Tell me…. Tell me what you did, tell me what to think about…. What to dream about Dean, tell me and make them go away…." He heard the broken plea break through Sam's whispers, and even though he couldn't see them, he knew tears were falling freely from Sam's eyes. "Tell me… I can't stop them, I can't stop the pictures, can't stop the heat, can't stop these thoughts. Tell me Dean."

Dean thought back to when they were younger, when it was to Dark, when the thunder was to loud, when their father had been gone to long, when Sammy was just down right scared. He needed him then just as he needed him now, he needed illusions and lies to mask the truth, fantasies to sugar coat his realities.

So exhaling, he did now what he used to do back then, part of him felt stupid… childish, but he was willing to if Sam thought it was going to help. Leaning his head a little his voice a mere whisper he answered his brothers sobbing plea, desperate cry.

"Dream of lollipops and candy canes.

There are no monster,

There are no tears

And there is nothing to fear,

If you take yourself away from here,

over the rainbow and into the clouds

On the wings of the most beautiful bird

To the land of lollipops and candy canes."

_Twenty pages later I'm done with part two, I hope this story is still everything you as the readers hoped it would be. I know that there is a lot of repetition, I was aiming for that, I wanted to put you as deep into Sam's mind in the worse scenarios possible. As always I want to hear from you, the good the bad and the ugly, I want to know all of it._

_As for the lollipops and candy canes thing I wanted to play off that line from Bloody Mary so I tried._

_Part 3 All the Kings Horses and All the Kings Men _

_Will be up soon. I live on reviews._

_L R_


	3. All The Kings Horses & All The Kings Men

-1**3. All The King's Horses & All The King's Men**

_The conclusion to Troubled Sammy_

**September 28th 2006**

_The last forty-eight hours had been more than trying times for the Winchester family, Dean clung to life, Sam clung to hope, and John clung to his boys… each one of them lost in their own world of agony and confusion as the hours passed by offering no signs of relief any time soon. _

_Instead something happened that would change all of their lives, something that would shatter the foundation of their small dysfunctional family forever leaving it in un-repairable shambles…_

Sam and Dean stood outside the door leading into their father's hospital room, neither one of them able to comprehend what had happened… what was currently happening, both of them frozen in a state of panic and fear…

"_Time of Death 10..."_

Sam's world immediately began spinning the doctor's voice from feet away fading into this air as he gripped instinctively on to the arm of the man beside him.

This wasn't happening….

No…

This wasn't happening he wouldn't accept this…

This was unacceptable…

"No… mmm mmm… NO!" He shook his head back and forth almost mechanically feeling vomit threatening to invade his mouth….

One of the last conversations he had with his father suddenly playing in fast forward through his quickly deteriorating mind…

Fast forwarding until…

"_go to hell…" _He heard himself say it over and over again.

He couldn't leave it like that, he had to apologize…

He didn't mean it, he needed to fix this…

This wasn't happening….

He wouldn't let it….

"NO!"

Not knowing what else to do his own pain blindingly agonizing Dean had no choice but to set his own emotions aside as he heard his brother's quivering voice from beside him, placing his free hand over his brother's trembling fingers. "Sammy…" He swallowed hard cursing himself for how afraid he sounded.

Pity. So much pity filled the eyes of the man wearing the green hospital scrubs as he turned from the body and looked at the two now orphaned boys waiting in the hallway, he headed toward them clearing his throat slightly…

No, no… not the body… His father….

His father's body….

"Don't…. don't come over here… Turn back around… Please… . No, no…. No, fix my dad, turn around and fix him…."

"Shhhh…" Dean drew his lip into his mouth giving the hand under his a soft squeeze, unsure whether he was trying to feed strength into Sammy or find some for himself as he did so.

"I'm sorry boys…" The older man's voice was thick with sympathy, "We did everything that we could, but we couldn't stop the bleeding and he bled…"

Sam wasn't listening.

Sam couldn't listen…

Instead he found his eyes glued over the man's shoulder to the three nurses now stitching up his father's chest, cleaning his wounds…

Not his father….

Not his father anymore….

His father's body….

This didn't make sense, none of this made sense, his thoughts were screaming at him again, this couldn't be happening, not his father, no… How could this be happening…. They needed to fix him, he needed him, he needed his father… John and Dean were everything he had left… his entire world… How could he just die? How could this be happening….

No… No this wasn't happening, it was a trick, it was all just a trick….

"Sam…." Dean hushed him softly as he heard the all to familiar clicking sound interrupting the pity filled words the doctor was slinging their way, "Sammy… Shhhh…"

Sam didn't hear Dean though.

Didn't hear anything.

He was watching.

Watching as they continued to sew his dad's body up…

Sew him like a shirt that needed hemming.

Sew him as though they had repaired him.

But they hadn't…

Hadn't repaired him… But still they sewed.

They were quick too, the whole must no have been to big…

How could the doctor's not fix up a small hole? How come they could fix everyone else and not his dad, he wasn't done with him yet, he needed to tell him, needed to fix things…

So much to say…

To apologize for…

He needed him, he needed him back now….

The doctor shouldn't be here, be talking to them, he should be in there, be in there fixing his dad making him alright again.

Giving Sam the second chance he didn't know he was ever going to need…

The second chance he needed now.

Making him right so Sam can fix things.

Be a good son.

Fix things and say he was sorry…

He was sorry, he was so sorry, and he needed to tell him, needed to say it…

This doctor should be in there, be in there and …., not standing so close that Sam can smell his nauseating antiseptic covered hospital clothing, so close that Sam can hear every time he in hales to deep, and not so close that Sam can feel each breath he let out… So close…. To close… Sam couldn't breathe…. So close.

Something was sitting on his chest… Something was stealing the air from his lungs….

This doctor really needed to back up now….

Back up all the way in there, all the way in there to fix his dad.

Why didn't he understand that?

"To close…. To close Dean…He's to close…Can't breathe… he's to close"

The older man whose name tag only now Dean was noticing read Dr. Peter Johnson stopped mid-sentence and looked at the obviously younger of the two brothers his brow raising slightly. "I'm sorry?" He whispered taking a single step backward as his eyes traveled from Sam to Dean question in his gaze.

"Shhh, see… He stepped back okay? You have plenty of room to breathe now, can you do that? Can you keep breathing keep yourself together for me?"

"Still can't… still can't breathe… Make him go… go in there…" He shook his head lightly still staring blankly over Dr. Johnson's shoulder.

"Yes you can… And you know that you can …"

"Is he alright?"

"He's just-" Dean didn't have time to finish his sentence as he caught sight of Sam out of the corner of his eye and the words died off on his lips.

The scared man's eye's widened and he shook his head faster as he watched one of the three women grab hold of the sheet and begin moving it toward his father's head.

She was covering him…

She couldn't do that… she wasn't allowed to…

He wasn't done with him…

His dad couldn't breathe like that.

He wasn't dead.

He couldn't be…

It just…

No..

"no…. no…. NO!" His tongue only seizing to click long enough to speak those three small words, small pleas Sam lunged forward and snarled when he realized he was once again being held back.

Just like with Jess…

He needed to get in there… he needed to save his dad… He had to…

"SAM!" His brother's voice still shook with emotion even though it was strong and dominate.

Sam didn't care, he needed to get in there, needed to find a way to fix this… to make it right…

To control it.

Taking advantage of Dean's still recovering injuries the younger yet for the moment stronger of the two pushed himself away causing his brother to stumble backward into a near by wall a look of shock and surprise crossing his features as he did so, smacking against it with a resounding thud.

Sam was free…

He needed to get in there. Needed to save his father.

Why didn't Dean understand?

"NO!….NO!!! DON'T! GET AWAY FROM HIM!!!! GET AWAY FROM HIM!!!!! PLEASE GET AWAY!!!!!!"

His breaths were short and panicked, painful as he approached the gurney housing his father and shoved the nurses out of the way with his body before ripping the sheet off unprepared…

Unbelieving…

As his eyes came in contact with his father's still and motionless form.

John's eyelids were closed but still Sam swore he could see what was beyond them… Eye's like his own, almost identical…

His father's eyes…

Lifeless Eyes….

He was dead.

Dead. And there was nothing Sam could do to fix it…

No way to save him.

Like the thinnest glass being thrown from the tallest building Sam felt his insides shatter, pieces, fragments, his thoughts tore themselves apart and the spinning of the world around him quickened. This was not happening. He didn't say it could.

He- He-

"NO! NO! NO!! NO!!!!"

"MMMMM MMMMMM!" He shook his head heavily and swallowed repeatedly, the clicking of his tongue growing louder and louder as he brought his hands to his hair.

"NO! FIX HIM…. HAVE TO FIX HIM SOMEBODY PLEASE?" He stood over the still body and begged pleaded, not knowing what else to do.

He had to find a way to fix this… To make it right…

But there was no way…

Nothing he could do.

No.. no that wasn't possible…. There had to be a way, there was always a way

"… DAD COME ON! I-I DIDN'T MEAN IT…. I-I DIDN'T…. DAD…SOMEBODY PLEASE!!!!!!" He felt his outsides crumbling just as his insides had done and quickly descended toward the tiles of the small hospital room. Tiles he had been counting… Tiles cold and lifeless like his father.

Like his soul.

Sharing a concerned look, both men moved hurriedly into the room, the one wearing the white coat quickly ushering for the nurses to move aside.

Dean collapsed down behind the now hunched over figure that was now all that remained of his family and wrapped his arms around him, strong… comforting… protective arms

"LET GO!!!!!! FIX HIM!!!! LET GO LETGO! LETGO!!!!!"

Dean inhaled sharply ignoring the heart wrenching cries as he shook his head and somehow found words of encouragement inside himself to whisper. "You're gonna be okay… We'll get through this…You're gonna be okay….C'mon Sammy…" Nothing else mattered, only the trembling form he was currently fighting to keep held against his own "Sam… Sam listen to me alright?"

"NO! NO!… NO! NO! NN!…NO! NO! "

Click Click Click

"Click Click

Click Click Click

"Is there something that we can do?" Dr. Johnson asked already putting the pieces together by the actions of the young man in front of him, the way he rocked in the same pattern identical to the one he was clicking out against the roof of his mouth, the way he begged for reassurance, fought for control… And shook with anguish.

"He..He…" Dean struggled to think, to pull his own thoughts together as his mind was invaded by the over whelming clicking noise that seemed to be once again growing louder and louder in volume. "He needs something… anything to calm him down, his medicine was in the trunk…. "

"Sammy come on man breathe… I need you to relax for me alright?"

Sam heard his brother, and he tried… he was really trying….

But this couldn't be happening, this wasn't happening….

Not dad, please not dad.

Not his dad.

So much left to say…

"What can we give him?"

Click Click Click

"Click Click

Click Click Click

"SOMETHING!" Dean felt his own demeanor slipping and quickly attempted to put his raw and frazzled emotions back in check, "Just give him something, anything…"

"Is he allergic to anything…"

Dean shook his head, "I-I don't… I don't know…."

"Valium." The doctor cleared his throat a little "Can we give him valium?"

"Yeah…. Yeah. He can have that." The older of the two men on the floor nodded watching as the doctor turned to retrieve a syringe from one of the many cabinets before slipping on a pair of gloves.

Sam fought in vain to free himself from the arms binding him. He couldn't stop looking, he couldn't stop looking even though he refused to believe what he was seeing.

"BRING HIM BACK… YOU WANNA DO SOMETHING BRING HIM BACK!… please…. Please…. Please… MMMM MMMM… no… not dead… bring him back now!"

"Sam." Dean brought his chin to rest on his brother's shoulder slowly trying to steady his body and stop his head from shaking back and forth, refusing to let go of the grip he had on him. "He's gone… He's gone… And He… I need you to be strong right now, put your thoughts together, pull yourself together, and be strong…."

"Please…. Please Dean…. Please bring him back…. I-I didn't mean it…. I-I didn't mean it….."

Spinning….

Destroyed.

Out of control…..

Helpless…

This wasn't happening, this wasn't happening.

NO!

Dean didn't have an answer.

Dean said nothing. There was nothing he could say, he knew that Sam didn't mean it, didn't mean to beg him to fix things, to make things right… but that didn't make his desperate cries any easier to handle.

Click Click Click

"Click Click

Click Click Click

Click Click Click

"Click Click

Click Click Click

The figure in his grasp began rocking and Dean did all he could think to do, he held tighter to him, gripped on to him as what seemed like an eternity later the Doctor kneeled down and placed the small needle into his brothers arm injecting a clear liquid into his veins.

**-**

Bobby stood in the doorway of room 343 and his heart broke at the sight laid out before him like a scene from some horrible B rated drama flick. Sam was out cold on the small cramped hospital bed Dean slouched over in the chair beside him eyes at half mass fighting against fatigue to stay open and coherent. And obviously losing the battle.

"Hey kid." He whispered making his way in and crouching down next to the eldest of the two remaining Winchester's chair placing a hand on his forearm.

Dean forced his eyes open and sighed immediate relief washing over him as his tired hazel orbs were met with the kind gaze of his father's longest and most loyal friend… "Hey Bobby…"

"He's still out?"

"Has been for what's going on four hours now."

"Well… I hate to you know throw another needle in ya here, but they've caught wind of you boys around here…. We need to get the two of you out of here and fast…."

His hunter instincts kicking in Dean was to his feet and at his brother's side within seconds shaking the still slumbering man's shoulder hard, "Could anything else go wrong tonight?" He asked more to himself than anyone else as he found his own insides screaming with anger and frustration.

**-**

Sam didn't remember being drug out of the hospital his arms limply hung over the shoulders of the only two remaining people he had left in this world. He didn't remember the long truck ride home, or being carried into the house and set on to the sofa.

None of it.

As he opened his eyes the next morning, it took him nearly two full minutes to register where he even was as he looked around the old dilapidated house, stacks of books, a beat up old arm chair and a single window on the far side of the room, he knew it was Bobby's place.

His father's best friend.

Bobby Singer.

Rubbing his face with his hands he sat up slowly, and it was as though that single motion caused a wave of dizzying memories to come rushing back to him…

"_Time of Death…"_

"_NO DAD PLEASE!!! NO FIX HIM!!!!"_

"_You're gonna be okay Sammy… You're gonna be okay"_

"_Time of death…" _

He blinked rapidly trying to clear the vivid images from his still clouded mind as he exhaled sharply before drawing in another breath, holding it in as long as he could and then releasing it again.

He was okay.

He was okay, and he was going to remain that way. Remain in control.

He was going to be okay.

Nodding to himself, the delicate man rose to his feet. He was going to do this, going to make himself okay, for Dean… for his father… for all of them. He knew how much his 'sickness' had disturbed his father, had worried him, and he was going to remain in control this time.

No doubt about it.

No matter what it took.

Making his way toward the small kitchen he wasn't the least bit surprised when two sets of cautious and worried eyes were cast his way.

"How you feelin' ?" Bobby asked clearing his throat. He had not seen the previous days episode but had managed to get every detail from a worried and exhausted Dean after they had arrived home.

"I'm fine…"

The older man nodded scratching his mustache, inwardly taking evaluation of the man in front of him to see if he were speaking the truth or just some cockamamie story he was hoping everyone including himself would come to believe.

"Good… That's good…" Dean poured a cup of black coffee and made his way toward the table putting it down in front of his younger sibling, "I'm making eggs…"

"You're cooking?" Sam couldn't keep the surprise from his voice or the shock from his expression as he asked.

"Yes smart ass, I'm cooking… And you're going to eat it…"

"I'm a big boy now you know, I can decide for myself if I'm going to eat or not…"

"Yeah, well… call me a fool but I'm not to sure on your judgment these days."

"Thanks."

"Anytime."

Silence fell over the room after that, no one knew what to say… They had plenty to talk about, plenty that NEEDED to be discussed, but now was not the time…. So Silence was the reward… or in Sam's case the punishment.

Silence meant thinking.

Thinking meant remembering.

He didn't want to remember…

Remember the words he had said so cold to his father…

"_Go to hell…" _So accusing, so deliberate… so hateful

His fathers body so still…

So cold…

So…. Dead.

Dead and gone.

Taken.

Like everything else in his life .

Taken without mercy.

Stolen.

Dad's gone…

Dad's dead.

He's gone and he's not coming back… He's gone and Sam's never going to have a chance to say how sorry he was….

Never going to get the chance to be the son John wanted… Needed him to be…

Gone…

Dean's brow cocked, as he turned off the fire on the stove and headed in his brother's direction standing directly in front of him he watched as Sam's fingers began to beat the three. Two Three. pattern on the kitchen table in front of him keeping perfect time with his once again clicking tongue.

"Sammy?"

"What?" Sam's tongue stopped without hesitation the minute Dean's voice rang through his ears.

The older brother eyed the fingers still tapping on the tables top as he slid the plate down in front of Sam, "Sammy… Are you sure you're alright?" He questioned at first making no attempt to reach for the bouncing fingers.

Bobby watched closely examining the way Dean seemed to handle his baby brother with ease, in a manner Bobby knew had to somehow come naturally to the born hunter, it wasn't something learned, something taught to him, something practice, this was something he did on his own something he just knew… something as natural as the bond between the two young man.

"Mhmmm… I'm fine…."

It was at this time that Dean crouched down a little and placed his hand over the fingers still beating rhythmically on the wooden table. "C'mon Sam… Don't give me that shit."

"I-I'll be fine… it was just…. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

Like hell he didn't…. Didn't have anything to be sorry for…

He had so much, so much to be sorry for.

This was all his fault, his doing…

He did this…

He had to be sorry for that….

"_Go to hell…."_

Sam's brow's came together in the middle as he drew his lip into his mouth his eyes immediately glazing over slightly with anger and frustration.

How could he say something like that so openly, without even thinking about it, how could he wish that upon anyone, especially his own father….

How could he be so stupid?

So heartless…

"Hey…" Dean exhaled bringing his free hand up and resting it on the back of his brothers neck and squeezing it a few times comfortingly as he felt the fingers beneath his tensing up. "Take a deep breath…."

"Fine…. I'm fine…. Gonna stay in control this time…. I can do this… not gonna lose it….. Not gonna go crazy… not this time…. I'm fine… fine and-"

"Easy Sammy shhhh…." Dean's gaze shifted to bobby's, "Can you uh go and get that night bag I had you rescue out of the trunk of the car for me?"

"Oh god Dean… Dean your car…. You're car I wrecked your car….. I-I"

"You didn't wreck my car…. A semi wrecked her, now relax."

"Sorry…. Sorry…. I-I…"

He did this… all of it… he did it….

And now everything was spinning…

Spinning out of control….

And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

No. He was going to stay in control. Going to fight it.

He was not going to lose it. Not this time.

Dean needed him. He could see it.

See it in the eyes now studying him…

Eyes filled with worry.

Eyes filled with pain.

Shower… I'm going to go take a shower… Stay busy…."

"Sam…" There was an amount of uncertainty behind his older brother's voice as Sam rose to his feet and held his hand out to bobby who was just now re-entering carrying the boy's over night bag.

"I'm fine Dean…" He tried as hard as he could to keep his emotions at bay as he spoke, his voice surprisingly to everyone in the room sounding calm and collected.

"Okay…. Well… You just make sure to keep that door unlocked alright? And if you feel yourself starting to slip take a deep breath and call out…. Bobby and I are right in here and we're listening alright?"

"I'm fine."

"So you keep saying…."

"Because it's true." Sam popped two pills into his mouth before heading off into the bathroom.

Stay busy…

Just stay busy and don't think…

Don't think about Dad….

Don't think about what you've done….

Don't think about anything…

Nothing.

Stay busy….

Stay busy,… Stay sane….

Closing the bathroom door and against his brother's request turning the lock, Sam exhaled sharply and leaned against it running a hand over his face. He could feel his insides slipping , but he was determined this time was going to be different… different than with Jess, different than before… He was going to be alright, he was going to force himself to be okay… He could fight it, hell… He was a damn demon hunter, he faced things most people could even imagine in their worst nightmare….

So he why the hell couldn't he face himself…

Handle his own emotions…..

Control them like every other normal person on the planet?

Why did he have to be so crazy….

So screwed up in the head….

His father had always kept a watchful eye on him, his condition to delicate to be ignored… His father was always there to protect him, to pull him through… His father and Dean, his brother, his bother who was now all he had left….

His father was gone.

Gone. Dead.

And there was nothing, no way of bringing him back.

He was gone. And it was Sam's fault.

Sam's fault.

All of it.

Click Click Click

"Click Click

Click Click Click

"_Go to hell…"_

Click Click Click

"Click Click

Click Click Click

His fault…. Sam's fault…. He's done it…..

He's killed his own father…. Whether he had pulled the trigger or not, he'd done it…

He couldn't breathe now….

He needed air…

He turned to leave the bathroom and shook his head to himself, if he went out there now Dean would see, see what he'd let himself become once again, what he allowed to happen… How crazy he really was….

Out of control….

No, he had to stay in here…

Alone…

He deserved to be alone…

To suffer…

Shower…

He could shower, could get clean, could wash it all away…

Everything…. All the dirt on his flesh, his father's blood on his hands, the dirt in his soul… Disgusting, he was disgusting and this was all his fault…. He deserved to suffer… To burn… To bleed….

Click Click Click

"Click Click

Click Click Click

Without even bothering to remove his clothes the nearly incoherent man, lost in his own thoughts, own emotions, his own self torture, climbed into the shower and turned it on as hot as it would go….

At first it was cold….

So cold it stung like needles against his flesh, as he curled his knees against his chest withering down into the far corner of the tub.

Then Warmer…. Warmer…..

Until it burned….

Burned like he deserved to….

Burned like fire….

Fires of hell….

This was his fault, all his fault,

And he was dirty so damn dirty, he needed to scold, burn until he was clean again.

He'd done all of this…

He couldn't stop it….

Couldn't control it…

And now his father was gone, everyone he loved was leaving him…. Soon Dean would be gone too….

He deserved to be alone….

Click Click Click

"Click Click

Click Click Click

His head shook back and forth forcefully as he swallowed repeatedly his cheeks bright red not only from the heat of the water pounding down so mercilessly, but from the tears now flowing freely down his face, he was confused so confused, he just wanted it all to stop… He needed it all to stop….

He'd done this and he couldn't face it.

He wanted to turn the water off…

But he couldn't….

Dirty so dirty…

HE was dirty…

Click Click Click

"Click Click

Click Click Click

Bringing his hands to his head he ran his fingers through his hair, he wished his father was here, he wished he was here to help…. Here to listen to his apologies….

"Out…. Out Out…." He mumbled as he began to slam his head back into the white tiles of the bathroom, light at first then harder and faster….

What had he done…

What had he allowed to happen?

Why couldn't he control it….

"I didn't mean it…. I didn't mean it…. I'm sorry…."

Guilty, he felt so damn guilty he couldn't bare it anymore.

Click Click Click

"Click Click

Click Click Click

**-**

Dean took another sip from his coffee, his tired and weary eyes looking across the table at the older hunter in front of him, "I just… I don't know how to help him, not this time."

"You just need to let him fight through this one on his own kid, all you can do is be there for him."

"It's not that easy with Sammy, he's not capable of coping with his own emotions, he can't handle stress…"

Bobby ran a hand over his face and sighed a little, "Then you boys will stay here with me for as long as it takes for him to be alright again…"

"Bobby we couldn't do that to you."

"Bull…. You boys are the closest thing to family I got and you're hurting…" His eyes narrowed a little, "Both of you are hurting. You're going to stay here until I say you can leave."

"Thanks…" Dean whispered recognizing the look of finalization written across his 'uncles' features and finding himself to smart and to exhausted to argue.

"Anytime now would you pl-" Bobby silenced himself hearing something of a pounding noise coming from the other room, before another word of question could cross his lips through he watched Dean spring up from his seat and head toward the bathroom, figuring the best thing to do would be follow he rose to his feet.

Dean frowned heavily standing in front of the off white small door that lead to the bathroom and listening for only a second before knocking. "Sammy you ok in there little brother?"

There was no answer.

"Sam?" He tried again knocking harder and this time trying to jiggle the knob his eyes looking to bobby… "He locked it." he spat out softly.

"Well then." Bobby shrugged a little pushing the eldest of the Winchester boy's out of the way before taking a step back, "I guess we knock it down." He concluded before using his foot to kick the door in.

There sat Sam, huddled in the corner of the small tub the water still pounding down on him, the shower curtain wide open, the entire bathroom covered in a thick dense steam from the scolding hot water. His head was pounding back against the wall, each blow harder than the last as he kept clicking his tongue over and over again.

In an unlike Dean moment, the older brother froze, his heart stopped beating, his breath hitched in his throat, his eyes glued on the broken… destroyed figure crumpled against the porcelain tub. All he had left was Sam, all he had left was his little brother, and his little brother was broken once again….

Taking notice of Dean's sudden freeze up Bobby sprung forward quickly and shut off the water with one hand pulling Sam away from the wall with the other. "Sam?" He questioned his voice harsh yet concerned.

"My fault… it's all my fault… all of it…." Sam whispered as Bobby took the young boy's face in his hands examining him carefully.

"Come on now no it's not….." He answered in an attempt to sooth.

"It is… I let him die, let him die like Jess, let him die….. Let him die like a lot of people… so many people…. I-I couldn't save, couldn't save them… couldn't Save my father…."

"C'mon kid that's ridiculous…"

Blinking himself back to reality Dean swallowed down the bile in his throat and kneeled down next to the tub side resting a hand on his trembling siblings back "Yeah Sammy, what-what does Dad say, We can't save everyone?"

"I-?I should have been a better son… shouldn't have said it…. I didn't mean it…. I didn't mean it and I'm sorry…" The broken man's eyes traveled from his brother to his uncle and back again over and over…. "I-I shouldn't have said it…. I didn't mean it…."

"What are you talking about Sam? What did you say?" Dean asked quietly beginning to rub circles on the back beneath his hand.

Click Click Click

"Click Click

Click Click Click

"Sam… tell us what you said, tell s what you're talking about…" Bobby urged quietly.

"Dishes, there are so many dishes that need to be done…. I can do them alright? I'll get right on those, I need to stay busy, need to say busy and not think, not think about it, not think about any of it… of what I've done I'll-" He fought to rise from the tubs bottom to his feet only to find both Dean and Bobby restricting his movements.

"Tell me Sam." Dean whispered.

"NO! NO! NO!"

Click Click Click

"Click Click

Click Click Click

"Sam."

Sam's head snapped up and he looked at his brother his chin trembling as he felt sickness in his throat literally gagging him.

"_Go to hell!"_

"GO TO HELL!!! I SAID,….. GO TO HELL!!!! GO TO HELL GO TO HELL GO TO HELL!!!! I SAID!" his breathing became shallower with each word as he shook his head lowering it into his hands. "I told him… I told him and…. And and…."

Dean's frown increased now as on instinct he climbed into the tub and wrapped his arms around his brother as tightly as he could. "Sam- Sam… Shhhhh, you didn't do this alright? You didn't do this….. C'mon man, I need you… I need you to be strong…. Come on."

"I did…. I did do this…. I did Dean…. I did…."

"No… no…. You didn't…."

"Make It right…. Can't make it right… can't….." Sam's red and puffy eyes came up to lock with the only person he had left in his life his chin continuing to tremble, his heart pounding hard in his chest as he fought to catch his breath….

"You're okay…. You're gonna be okay…."

"My brother…. You're my brother…. All I have…. All I have, don't… don't leave me…. Please don't…. don't leave me… don't leave me alone….. Don't leave me alone…. Just don't… don't…."

Click Click Click

"Click Click

Click Click Click

"Hey… Hey…." Dean whispered sighing softly, "I'm not going anywhere, I'm right here with you and I'm not going anywhere I promise you that alright? It's my job to protect you…. To watch out for you…."

"mmmm hmmmm…. Okay,… okay …." Sam lowered his head back into his hands and let out a deep breath, he wanted to believe Dean, he wanted to believe him so bad it hurt….

But his dad had promised him that so many times before…

His dad and Jess both had said that

And now they were gone…

Dean. His brother was all he had left…

And he knew one day he would lose him too…

Returning his hand to his brother's back Dean sighed softly hearing Sam's breath hitch in his throat and thinking silently to himself as he shared a look of concern with Bobby…. Thinking about Sam, thinking about everything…. This wasn't something he could fix, this wasn't a pain he could repair, this was something Sam was going to have to do on his own… something Dean had no control over….

And he was reminded of that old nursery rhyme, one of his favorites as a child that his mother use to read to him….

All the kings horses… and all the kings men, couldn't put Sammy together again…

There were just something's that were non-repairable, some pains that ran so deep they couldn't be mended.

This, Dean knew was one of those pains.

_**-**_

_There really was no suitable ending for a story like this, So I hope I didn't disappoint anyone with the way I chose to close the last chapter, having just recently lost my own Dad I wanted to convey a lot of my own emotions, but at the same time I couldn't dig to deep…. If that makes any sense, anyway I hope you enjoyed it and as always review and let me know what you thought. I live for reviews and opinions, I want it all the good the bad and the ugly._


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